So, totally finally got round to watching The Fountain last night. A deeply beautiful and righteous artwork. So awesome. So epic. That dude knows his shit.

Saying that, I do sometimes wonder if I’m being tricked into thinking Darren Aronofsky movies are awesome and epic by Clint Mansell’s awesome and epic music.

EG:

Not that Bueller isn’t totally awesome and epic ANYWAY, but you get the point. Mansell Muzik is some powerful shit.

Speaking of Bueller, did you ever see that lugubrious Bueller trailer someone cut to look like a coming of age indie flick?

One of the many wonderful things about living in the future is the ubiquity of the re-edit. Anyone with a computer and an internet connection can share their re-imagining with the world. Used to be that only deeply unamusing chat sow insert editors got to do that sort of thing. Now it’s the 13 year old in Alberkirke or the 60 year old in Prestatyn getting to share their reimaginings with the universe. It is so choice! That Bueller one is definitely one of my favourites. How about you?

Oh, I saw the new Zowie Bowie flick on Sunday. Source Code. Oh my sweet lord. I was lonely and hungover so I dragged my stinking carcass down to the Stratford Picture House for celluloid cleansing, and it totally worked. Fucking wonderful film, it adressed a whole load of stuff that’s been playing on my mind recently, and caused me to drop approximately one and a half tears. I don’t wanna say anything else about it though, as I went in there knowing nothing abut what I was about to witness, other than it was by the dude that made Moon, and I think that added to the experience, and I’d hate to take that away from you. So just go watch it, is all, it’s Great.

Oh, 13 Days Till The Future!

— Tuesday, April 5th, 2011

You know how they say nothing rhymes with Orange? Well, Lozenge kind of rhymes with orange. So that is bunkum. Syringe also, if your accent fits. But I cannot think of a single thing that even comes close to rhyming with ridicule. Pitiful? Minuscule? No. Not good enough…

These things keep me awake at night. For those of us that deal in the arrangement of words, this is serious business. The quest for the ark:

“Dead in the middle of Little Italy little did he know that he riddled with middle men who didn’t know diddly.”

Perfection.

A litany of literary litter in its wake.

Show me a rapper that hasn’t rhymed cool, school, and fool, and I’ll show you a cube without corners.

That picture up there was taken by Miss_Lucifer, who posted it on Twitter while we were onstage at The Garage on Saturday night.

It must have been ages since I’ve played, because I don’t remember being able to see photos and feedback from a gig as soon as one has left the stage.

Narstie pointed this out. We were chilling at the bar after the gig, and he had his face in his phone. What the fuck are you doing? I asked him. He was looking at photos from the show.

Like this, posted by @gdpreston:

…and this, posted by @Svend_SPOnG:

Yes, that’s right ladies and Gs, I was joined onstage, NOT JUST BY THE MIGHTY DJ JACK NIMBLE, who held me down like a weapon, but by my rap superfriends Pixel, Littles, Lacey, Big Narstie and Marvin The Martian. DAAAAAAMN! I told you it was gonna be some legendary shit.

When we got offstage Adam Ant was waiting for us, offering strange, thin menthol cigarettes. Truly, he was the personification of Charm. Lacey had a little omfgasm, and Narstie had no idea who he was. Narstie enjoyed a little of Adam’s solo performance later though. Well, he liked the “ridicule is nothing to be scared of” line, anyway.

Shout out everyone involved for a thoroughly Great night. We made a shit-ton of money for Japan! The bands were all brilliant, the organisation was impeccable, and the dude helping get the bands onstage was a righteous G, who gave me piggyback. Shout out the righteous ladies and Gs copying my improvised dance movies in the crowd. Shout out the dude who did an awesome speed drawing of me which I will post tomorrow when I get it back from Nonny who was kind enough to take my bags home for me fearing I might lose them in a bout of post-gig drunkeness. Shout out to the guy guarding the stage door, a Wu-Tang fan who looked a bit like Prodigy from Mobb Deep. That dude loved the show and it makes me very proud when dudes who love Wu dig what I do.

Damn, that rhymed! That sounds like some Dr Seuss shit. Maybe its time for me to write my children’s book…

Rah though, I gotta shoot now. I am off to Camden to do an interview with Who’s Jack, and I need to do seventeen tons of washing and write a video treatment first. May all your endeavours be fruitful. Enjoy the blob blog. And please find me a word that rhymes with ridicule.

PAX!

— Monday, April 4th, 2011

Yes, today is the big day, exactly one month prior to The Big Day, and what better way to start it than by burning lots of toast and watching He-Man cartoons?

Indeed. And when I say He-Man, I don’t mean 80s Masters Of The Universe. I mean 2002 He-Man And The Masters of The Universe, and I mean the first two episodes, which concern the origins of both He-Man AND Skeletor, something the original cartoons never bothered with, as they still had one foot in He-Man And The Masters Of The Universe’s TRUE origins as a line of aborted Conan The Barberian toys that got their bodies repainted and their rubber heads swapped when it turned out that basing a line of toys on an R rated movie wasn’t going to fly.

Funny how it goes. I was watching He-Man round my aunties house and babbling about the “bower of greskill” around the same time I was dressing up as Adam Ant and babbling about “doggy doggy doggy“, so its no surprise my unconscious directed me in that direction this morning, just like its no surprise that I went to America with a microphone grafted onto a He-Man sword and war paint on my face in 2004. Just like its no surprise I just burned ANOTHER pair of toasts. I shall try one more time, and if that fails I shall switch to cereal.

See? That is LEARNING. And that picture up there is DJ Jack Nimble and I having got our set sorted last night, with the aid of Time Keeping Tomato, and… OH SHIT I COULD USE TIME KEEPING TOMATO TO TIME MY TOAST AND STOP ME BURNING IT UNDER THE GRILL ALL THE TIME! HOLY CRAP!

Let us try this thing…

OK, Time Keeping Tomato is set. Right. So, yes, we’re playing a relatively short set, as we’re making room for Mr Adam Ant (the punnish nature of whose name was only revealed to me YESTERDAY, on twitter, by Kieron Gillen, who himself only realised last year, oh the humility), and by God have we crammed a lot into that short space. It’s going to be very dope, as I haven’t played with just myself and a DJ since the days of Birddogg (HAI!) back in 05. BJ has been telling me to do it for a bloody age and now I am finally executing, with my old pal DJ Jack Nimble, who reminded me last night that he has been telling me to get a Mac since 2006, so it looks like 2011 is the year of getting round to doing stuff certain people have been suggesting I do for ages, and since my auntie Sheila has been telling me i need to make a million pounds and buy my mum a house for a decade that sounds pretty frikkin SWEET.

Oh, hang on, it’s Tomato Time…

YES! IT WORKED! TOAST NOT BURNED! TOAST DELICIOUS! DON NO LONGER RAVENOUS WITH HUNGER! WIN!

Damn, I wonder why I never thought of that before. What a doof.

Anyway, I think Jack’s outside, so I bet get off. We gotta rehearse a bit more before tonight. So if you can, make sure you get your fine ass down the The Garage, Highbury, London, TONIGHT, certainly before NINE, but optimally at SEVEN, cos all the bands are GREAT, and if you can’t well, you could do worse than pouring yourself a tasty beverage, or rolling yourself a tasty plane, and watching the 2002 He-Man And The Masters of The Universe series, as it is dope, and dope gives hope and scope, in these strange, amazing days.

PAX!

— Saturday, April 2nd, 2011